Thanks for the reviews! My spring break is over now, but I plan to keep writing. I know the last chapter ended on a cliffhanger, but thats because I really wanted to get this one out fast. In all honesty, I have no clue when or where this story is heading. Or how I'm going to even end it when it does reach that point. I just kinda wanted to write about them.

Thanks for the feedback! I'm starting to send responses to reviews. If you haven't received one yet, bear with me.

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It was nothing, Evey reassured herself as she turned to descend the stairs once more as her hand slowly eased off the hilt of her blades. She was feeling a bit anxious. There were a lot of people beginning to gather inside of the pub. She had known there would be a peephole in which she could use to monitor the positions of her targets, but she had not expected the condition to be so shabby.

Despite her best efforts, could only make out the vague silhouettes of various men. Oh, this was no good. Despite this setback, she would have to make the best of the situation. Three men sat at the counter now, then a fourth. The two nearest were Knox and Archer. She would have to hope that one of the other men seated with them would be Peter. For the remaining pair, she could not clearly identify. Other men conversed at various tables and corners of the room. Quickly, Evey devised her plan.

Okay, first kick the door outwards, roll in a few smoke smoke grenades, catch the men at the counter by suprise, and exit in the confusion. Sounded good on paper, didn't it? She couldn't rest until the message was clear across the board that the last thing England needed was another fascist dictatorship. These men had no regard for political process and if they had the power would most likely attempt to rise to power by a coup d'etat. Evey tensed as she waited for a group of men to walk away from the bar. Any moment now.

V raised his head slightly, tilting the ivory mask upwards and slightly to the left curiously, as to listen to Evey's movements. How could he have been such a fool? Seeing her at the bottom of the stairs, it all seemed so painfully clear. She had taken up his guise. Evey, his apprentice, donned the Guy Fawkes mask. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune- or to take arms against a sea of troubles. Was he to attempt a silent escape? Unbeknownst to Evey? He nearly turned about on his heel, before the thoughts of her rushing into a room occupied with most obviously armed men, caused him to stop. Was Evey capable of the task she set before herself?

Too late.

He heard the almost inaudible creak of a never used doorway, and the receding clinks of metal against a hard floor. This was soon followed by confused yells coming from the direction of the pub, and as a heavy boot slammed open the door, V could hear the yells echo up the stairway even louder. She was already in. He cursed himself for having such a lengthy contemplation as to whether or not to stop her. It was too late now.

Quickly he rushed down the steps, gracing about the turn which lead to the final flight of stairs. The door was swinging, as if recently exited, and Evey was nowhere to be found. He ran down to the door, and pushed it open just slightly so that he might get a glimpse of the chaos. However, the smoke afforded that he would not see much. What he could make out was beyond his expectation of the situation. He could vaguely make out a swishing black cape cutting through the clouds of grey, and two men falling in succession. A few glints of silver allowed him to catch the movement of her knives, which though not as smooth as his (which was nearly impossible), definetely implied that this was not her first time.

However, V's admiration was cut short as he caught the movement of a darkened figure cutting through the ashy smoke. Evey, caught up with the execution of her targets, was facing the bar, her back turned towards the assailant. She had subdued most of the men in attendance by sacrificing four of her six knives, leaving her with the two she now weilded in each hand. Peter and Archer were already dead and her blades had just smoothly fit themselves into Knox's abdomen. Knox's corpse doubled over against her shoulders as she forcefully removed her blades, nudging the heavy corpse off of her form at which point it lifelessly tumbled to the floor. She still hadn't noticed the figure slowly advacing through the smoke.

The advancing man cautiously began to reach into his form, quite possibly into his coat. This suspicion was reaffirmed when his hand reappeared, weilding what took the form of a small handgun. A knot formed itself in V's stomach. He was given no choice.

Stealthily his figure cut through the smoke, behind Evey's secret assailant. A gloved hand quickly reached around and cupped the man's mouth, pulling him backwards and invariably into his unsheathed blade. The man uttered a cry, which V attempted to muffle in vain with his hand.

As a reaction to this, Evey spun about. She saw the victim, eyes frozen in horror, as a dark hand slid away from his gaping mouth. She heard the blade withdraw from his form, followed by the sound of metal cutting through the air before being quickly sheathed. It was only a matter of seconds before the man's limp physique tumbled to the ground, but for the two masked vigilantes, it felt like an eternity.

There they stood, face to face. By now the smoke had begun to settle about their feet, and it was crystal clear that neither of them were hallucinating. V stood there, gazing down upon his own visage. Both hands reached before his form, folding as he shifted his legs apart slightly. The lesser figure slowly moved to a standing position, sheathing her daggers carefully. She was trembling, but trying hard to contain it. After several long moments, the silence was broken as the sound of V's voice cut through the room.

"Hello, Evey." Spoke V in a calm and reassuring tone. As unaffected and stoic as ever, he peered down at her through the eyes of the mask. There was no point in running. He had accepted the fact that he had been discovered, and was ready to greet the consequences in a bitter sweet reunion. Despite his pledge to keep Evey unaware of his existance, he secretly relished in the idea of once more enjoying her company.

Evey stood perfectly still. Hello? Is that all he has to say to me? Evey felt her emotions stirring in the pit of her stomach while her words got stuck in her throat. He had greeted her just as plainly after he had tortured her those years ago. The delight she would've derived from his presence was drowned by her fury. Although the Fawksian mask spoke nothing of her true visage, it could hardly hide the tension that began to thicken the air and lay heavily in the gap between them. She tilted her head downwards towards the floor, and V felt a sudden pang of guilt at her action. "I thought you said no more lies..." Although the mask could conceal her tears, she could not control the choke in her voice as she spoke. One hand slowly reached upwards and slid beneath the collar of her cloak and shirt before suddenly jerking. Lowering her palm she unveiled the device which had been fastened about her neck, allowing her to imitate V's voice.

"What happened to only truth?" She cried aloud, now in her voice. Evey's voice. A voice he had not heard so clearly in two full years. She threw the device at him, to which V could only let it hit and slide of his chest before allowing it to fall into his palm.

"Evey, you must understand it was all in your best interest-" V spoke in as soothing a tone as he could muster, granted the situation at hand.

"I have the ability to decide what is in my best interest." She tilted her head upwards, facing him now.

"Judging by the man I just intercepted, this raid didn't seem to be a good idea- if you're concerned about your safety, that is." V retorted.

V appeared just as unreasonable as ever in Evey's eyes. She had thought, after the suffering they endured together, she had reached a point in V unknown to anybody but herself... But seeing him now; in this situation, through this conversation, she didn't feel like she knew him at all. Curiosity and confusion clouded her senses, and she was unmistakably overwhelmed with a sinking sadness which began to creep upon her.

Noticing he had upset her, V took a step forward as he extended his hand. "Evey, please. You're hardly capable of reason at this moment. If we could just sit down to talk about this, all things may be sorted out in due time."

This was the man she had dreamt of. She had imagined him standing by the Jukebox, beckoning her to dance with him. This was the man that taught her freedom and fearlessness. The man that changed England. She knew there was nothing more she wanted than to watch The Count of Monte Cristo with him voicing over the familiar lines. And yet, despite this, the emotions of the moment which stirred within her brought rise to the sorrow and anger she had felt during his absence. She believed he was dead. Dead! Just when she thought she could trust him. She would've thrown it all away just to disappear and be with him. She was furious. He betrayed her trust. Caught up in the heat of the moment, Evey fell victim to her raging emotions. Her gloved fingers curled into the palms of her hands, balling into fists at either side of her form. "Don't touch me!" She shrieked as she refused his hand.

V, slightly taken aback, retreated his offer as he watched her turn on her heel and head towards the fire escape and quite definitely towards home. There was no reasoning with Evey when she was upset. That was a fact he knew very well. The only thing he could do in a situation such as this was to let her storm out on him. However, he did not fear losing her trail.

Having unveiled himself to Evey, he was no longer required to take to the shadows and seclusion in which he had resided since that November the fifth. He would give her time to relax and wait until the following night before pressing upon her to allow him to explain his circumstances. And so, V set himself back towards his own home. He only hoped that Evey would at least manage some sleep.

Arriving at the Shadow Gallery, Evey found herself both emotionally and physically exhausted. Just as the lift took her to her level, she proceeded to stumble out and towards the polished mahogany door which lead to the Shadow Gallery. No residents of the building knew of this level, nor did the current landlords perhaps. Whether they did or not, it was hardly within reason that somebody would venture down this far. So just as V had done when she stayed with him, Evey had left the door to the Shadow Gallery unlocked. This allowed Finch and Dominic the ability to come and go as they pleased. Pushing the door forward, Evey slinked against the wall tiredly before she continued to shut the doorway. She paused for a moment, as her hand hesitantly lifted itself to the heavy double bolt locks which adorned the door. Slightly rusted and hardly ever used, it took a moment for Evey to jerk them loose. With a heavy sigh, she slammed the locks into their respective holes and secured the door shut.

The Shadow Gallery wasn't open tonight.

She began disrobing as he headed towards V's room. She had removed her fedora hat and cloak by the time she entered the doorway and proceeded to set her articles aside. Eventually she slid out of her attire until she found herself in the simple gray dress shirt which she wore beneath her "V" attire.

Then, quite simply, she let herself fall into the soft comforts of his burgundy sheets. Despite the prior incidents which were heavy on her mind, she was fast asleep in mere minutes. She had never felt more tired and exhausted in her entire life.